


Show Me Your Darkness

by daughterofspring



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 16:21:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15489861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daughterofspring/pseuds/daughterofspring
Summary: This is a love story, plain and simple. When a death trooper is assigned to the bastard daughter of an esteemed Imperial officer, they find something in one another they never deemed possible.





	Show Me Your Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> Both main characters are original and of my own creation. I do not own anything else from the Star Wars Universe.

[ ](https://imgur.com/M3Pz8RD)

It hadn’t been his job to question. What methods the Empire had taken to condition the elite soldier, had stuck. Practices meant to strip all semblance of the hopeful boy he had once been— one whom would run amok, barefooted through the brush of Keldabe, racing his friends to the edge of the Kelita river. He had no true friends, the urge, the memories made to be suppressed. The title his own mother had given him was as forgotten as her face, as the eyes much like his own welled with tears at his departure. AN-0301 had no name apart from such, apart from his rank of sergeant. His home was dictated by a matter of orders, may it be a destroyer, may it be a spaceport or remote base, AN was made to venture where his superiors deemed necessary— nothing more, nothing less. To provoke disorder was to deviate, and to deviate would dub him a traitor to the cause, to the Empire. He would be set _to_ the firing squad, his remains labelled with dishonour and sent to his orphaned family with a warrant for their death attached.

 

No— He would not dispute the command to guard a prized daughter of one of the most esteemed officers known amongst the Imperial ranks. It was taken with ‘yes sir’, with a rigid, uniform salute and conditioned loyalty.

Even as he stood, nearly a foot over the young woman, the spark of malcontent in bright, russet eyes as they hardened on the Death Trooper. A menacing thing to most, but to the ireful offspring pacing about her steel cage, his presence was but another weight on her wings, another reminder that freedom was so truly far from her grasp. _“I imagine my father sent you to sway my spirit into subjection.”_ She fumed. The pristine, and yet, wild coifs of golden brown hair tilted with her head as she regarded the sergeant.

 

The soldier paused a moment before speaking through his mask, the deep, mechanical vibrato even-keeled— almost robotic to her ears. _“I am just here to protect you, Miss Tarkin.”_ From his vantage point, it seemed to be the wrong kind of answer. She had huffed from exasperated annoyance, arms crossed in front of her chest like the spoiled little brat the human side of his psyche believed her to be. _“Don’t call me that!”_ She demanded with a wave of her index finger. Though, the sharpness of his sniper sight could easily spot the tremble to her frame.

 

A fear she attempted to hide to the very best of her abilities. In fairness, her father had given warning to his manner of methods— so sick of her dissent regardless of how Wilhuff admired his daughters level of intellect, he did not so enjoy being unable to control her spark. Sparks were a dangerous thing so close to kindling, so close to enemies should she despise him enough to aid the enemy. She was a bargaining chip, a gleaming little pawn to be placed where the empire needed her most and what made politicians cave above all else but the love of a dutiful wife. _“My name is Adiara.”_ She offered without prompt. Poor little rich girl settling her thrumming heart as her gaze studied the semi-matte armour with a quiet weariness. At least he wasn’t carrying the gargantuan rifle that made her throat dry and stomach nauseated at the thought of one found on the receiving end of its power. Though it made him no less of a formidable figure, the embodiment of death and his heavy hand.

 

 _“_ Adiara _then.”_ As much as he wished to raise a sarcastic lift to his tone, AN responded with a flat, dullness to his voice. The lifeless obsidian eyes of his helmet staring back at her, but he could see the question forming on her tongue. The gesture interrupted by the snap of her head and the hiss of the steel door to her apartments. As if the soldier could not stand any straighter, it certainly defied expectations at the entrance of the officer.

 

Grand Moff in all his authoritative prowess marching into the quarters with his hands elegantly poised behind his back. The pale blue of his irises regarding his only daughter with a great sense of superiority. Wilhuff barely spared the elite warrior a second glance, one was enough to validate his choice of a guard. The Sergeant had come recommended by every trustworthy source, regular enlisted troopers were no longer enough to contain a bird that wished to be free. Not a coincidence the tracking device had been embedded in a favoured charm bracelet Adiara never took off her wrist. _“I trust you won’t attempt to steal a transport this time, Adiara.”_ His tone was nothing short of condescending. Though, as a child, she could recall nothing different— steady with indifference even in the small bursts of pride he rarely afforded her.

 

 _“Well, father, I ought to test the ratio of_ brute _to_ intellect _. He seems the perfect candidate.”_ She scoffed. The glory of her cheek short-lived as cold hands gripped her chin with abruising forcefulness, she growled a huff in response _“You’ll listen closely now, dear girl, Sergeant AN-0301 has direct orders to use any amount of force he deems necessary, the very same as his replacement. Remember carefully your duty to the Empire. Be thankful I didn’t send you to rot with a lowly senator or a Hutt.”_ The threat was far from hollow, and Wilhuff could find comfort in the brief flicker of fear in the depths of her eyes when she simply nodded with great reluctance. _“He will accompany you, everywhere.”_ He finished with great emphasis.

 

 _“Is he to watch me in the refresher, father?”_ The rebellious quip of her tongue offered a reply of her own. The ice of his gaze hardened, his grip locking tighter before releasing. _“ Mind your words, girl.”_ He gave a final warning, a look of reprimand before the High ranking man turned elegantly militant on his heels and exited the room, leaving her to silence and guard.

 

AN-0301 wasn’t supposed to feel any sort of empathy; not for any subject, not for any assignment because that is all they were— objects. Obscure and expendable. Sacks of meat and bone and weakness. The soldier had already pegged her type. Spoiled, entitled, vain and snobbish and yet, she stood her ground at that moment. The cracks in her facade as clear as the twitch in her lip to keep from sobbing, the curling and uncurling of her fist to distract the fearful distress she carried in her heart rather than so foolishly on her sleeve. _“I won’t follow you in the refresher.”_ He broke the long silence between them and watched as Adiara nodded her head, weak as it was in her own conviction but grateful he offered a chance to be alone then.

 

Maybe he wasn’t such a mindless brute. Though it wasn’t all she could focus on apart from settling her from beneath the warm stream of water, tears as numbed and silent as she felt.


End file.
